Valcor
by Gallivant
Summary: Revolution in France forces the mysterious Cullens to return to Valcor, their ancestral English home, bringing intrigue, adventure, romance and danger into the lives of young Bella Swan, and her gypsy friend, Jacob Black. AU. At first B/E, but mainly B/J.


**A.N: **This is set to be a long, convoluted, but hopefully entertaining multi-chaptered fic. As the story is set in late eighteenth-century England, British spellings will be used throughout.

Although this is AU, the story still bears some strong resemblances to the original Twilight series, but only up to a certain point. Many of the core tenets underpinning Meyer's world of vampires, magical monsters, blood rites and curses are markedly different here. Plus, the plot takes a number of significantly different twists and turns and major game-changing deviations, most especially in terms of the story's 'romantic' direction. Valcor might _appear, _at first,to be a Bella/Edward love story, but nothing here is quite what it seems… . Bella Swan and Jacob Black are our key protagonists. And this is chiefly _their_ story.

**VALCOR**

**(1) Over The Wall**

**The Valcor Estate, England – September 1785**

'Come on Jacob, don't be such a sissy,' Bella called, sticking her tongue out cheekily at the young boy with the dark, tousled hair, who was staring up at her.

She already had one leg hooked precariously over the crumbling limestone wall, which separated the grounds of the Valcor estate from the town's common land.

'No Bella! Get down. We're not allowed,' Jacob pleaded, eyes round with a mixture of fear and excitement.

'Says who?' Bella retorted, tossing her head in defiance.

'Father,' Jacob replied in a small voice, backing away from the old stone wall, which was half-hidden by a thick crop of tangled creepers and clumps of ivy. 'He says Valcor's a wicked place. Says it's been cursed by the devil hisself. Says nobody's lived there for years, and that magical monsters that eat children and horses, are roaming the grounds.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Bella scoffed, despite the faint inklings of alarm throbbing through her.

After all, her _own_ father – and indeed, all her neighbours in Sangford – had always warned against venturing onto Valcor lands. It was most disconcerting to learn that the hardy folk from the nearby gypsy camp - themselves feared by so many, for their supposed 'magicking ways' – harboured similar suspicions.

'Jacob Black. You surprise me,' she said primly, resolving to conceal her misgivings with a bold show of bravado. 'I'd never have thought you a cowardly sort. There's no such thing as magical horse-eating monsters. And well you know it.'

Judging by the anguished look on Jacob's face, he clearly disagreed. Most vehemently.

'Please Bella,' he begged, chewing his lip in distress. 'I can't cross the wall. I just can't.'

As he spoke though, he had inched closer, hand extended upwards, reaching towards her. 'Bad things happen to folks who cross that wall. Bad, terrible things.'

'Poppycock!' Bella shrilled, impetuously swinging both her legs over the wall, and sliding to the other side, where she landed on a patch of damp grass.

It had been the work of a moment. A hasty moment she was already regretting, as one moment followed another, and still there was no sign of Jacob following.

She gazed out at a thickly grassed meadow, leading to dark woodland, beyond which the thin spiralled chimneys of Valcor Manor jutted skywards. The house, a long, grey smudge, its myriad windows glinting in the thin, watery sun, was barely visible through the trees, themselves a rich cacophony of autumnal colour.

Even from this distance, Bella fancied she could hear the sound of a low, rasping breeze weaving its way through the trees, and the soft shushing sighs of falling leaves.

'Jacob?' she called in a thin, reedy voice. But Jacob didn't reply.

Determined to hide the rising panic that clogged her throat, she called again.

The weighty silence from the other side of the wall, seemed to deepen. The low, whistling wind from the woodland swirled closer, louder.

Bella clutched her knees to her chest, and pressed her back hard against the cold stone wall behind her. Where was he? Why had he abandoned her?

She glanced upwards, now noting that the climb back _up_ seemed so much higher than the jump _down_.

'Jacob. Please,' she whimpered, her eyes awash with tears.

To her immense relief, Jacob's scowling face, stained brown with the juice of copious berries they'd picked earlier, as they'd dawdled along the lane from town to the common land, was staring down at her.

'There you are,' he muttered crossly.

'Didn't you hear me calling?' she snapped.

But Jacob didn't reply. He was too busy levering his body over the wall, his toes seemingly hooked into the knotted foliage which smothered the wall, as he dangled his arms ever closer to Bella. He was panting with the effort.

'Come on Bella,' he squeaked, the air forced out of his lungs as he wriggled downwards, scuffing the stone with his bare feet, as one by one, the creepers were dashed from the wall by his body weight. He lurched forwards, grabbing Bella to break his fall. They fell heavily together, in a dishevelled tangle of limbs and hair.

'What you do that for?' Bella screeched, pushing Jacob aside.

'I was trying to save you!'

'I didn't need saving,' she retorted.

''Course you did,' Jacob murmured, sniffing the air in a distracted fashion, before grabbing her hand and striding purposefully towards the woodland.

'Where are we going?' Bella asked, unable to extinguish the apprehension in her voice, and bewildered by Jacob's sudden change of heart. She jogged alongside him, casting nervous glances at their wall, which was receding rapidly behind them.

This hadn't been part of her plan. She'd wanted to go _over_ the wall. Not_ away_ from it. Whatever was Jacob thinking?

'I thought you were scared of this place?' she asked, struggling for breath, as Jacob broke into a run, almost as though they were being pursued by his imaginary monsters, and he was having to make a dash for the cover of the trees.

She gazed around them, at the wide open field, the still grey skies above them. Yes. There _was_ a sense of being exposed here. An acute awareness that they were trespassing. But still. This was peculiar behaviour.

'I am, I'm terrified,' Jacob replied, tightening his grip on her hand with his own. 'But now we're here, I want to see why. Don't you?'

Her heart beat a little faster.

XXX

'This was a bad idea. We should have climbed back up the wall...straight away,' Bella gasped, her lungs burning with the exertion of their sprint across the meadow, which had seemed to grow in size the more they ran.

Jacob shrugged. 'But Bella, the wall was too high. We'll just have to find another way out.'

The woodland was darker, more forbidding than they had hoped. The trees huddled together closely, forming a canopy of thick foliage overhead, which blocked out any vestige of pale, autumnal sun.

They traipsed through mounds of dry brown leaves, heading rapidly towards the grey stone house in the distance.

Bella's legs were aching with the effort, weighed down by the heavy petticoats her mother insisted she wore under her muslin skirt.

She was thankful to exit the dank confines of the woodland, entering instead a pleasant, neatly manicured garden. Valcor Manor reared up ahead of them, grey and austere, hemmed in by a richly ornamented stone balustrade, bordering a paved terrace.

To Bella and Jacob's astonishment, an array of rose bushes sporting lush crimson flowers, lined a pebbled pathway leading to the terrace. Equally surprising was an unseasonably warm breeze which wafted gently through the bushes. And the sun, they felt sure, was brighter here, more vivid, bathing the front of the house in soft dappled hues.

'See Bella? I told you this place was magic,' Jacob breathed. 'Look!' he shrieked excitedly.

He loosened his hand from Bella's grip and sprinted towards a large glass conservatory, gleaming in the sunshine. Bella chased after him.

Jacob pressed his nose to the glass, peering inside at a sprightly-looking orange tree, its leaves a dense, dark green, its branches laden with plump golden fruit.

'I've never seen anything like it,' he whispered. 'It's…it's a tree growing balls of sunshine.'

Jacob frantically sought a door, and as soon as he had found one, he entered the conservatory. Bella followed closely behind, surprised at the intense cloying heat which instantly assailed them.

Jacob seemed transfixed by the tree, and its fruit in particular. He snaked his hand into the heart of the lustrous green foliage, delicately stroking a smooth, shiny leaf, before his palm encircled a small orange sphere. He tugged the fruit from the tree and crammed it greedily into his mouth, tearing off a chunk of orange with his teeth, complete with leathery rind, which he then chewed enthusiastically.

He promptly retched, spitting the fruit out, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He frantically pawed at his tongue. 'Poison!' he yelped, 'I've been poisoned!'

Bella was about to point out that the ball of gold clearly had a rather nasty-looking, pitted skin, which Jacob had forgotten to remove, in his greedy eagerness to taste the fruit inside. But any excuse to gloat was immediately vanquished by cold, panicky fear, as Jacob collapsed heavily onto the floor, frothing ominously at the mouth, gasping for air.

Bella instantly sank to her knees and tried, in vain, to catch hold of her young friend, who was rocking violently from side to side, smashing his head on the hard, marble tiles that lay beneath him.

'Jacob? What is it? What's wrong?' she cried. A white heat had fogged her mind. She felt queasy and faint.

She poked a timid finger at the golden fruit that Jacob had bitten. There was nothing strange about it; no discoloration, no toxic fumes. Nothing to suggest he had truly been poisoned.

But how else could Jacob's sudden illness be explained? Unless…unless he had been felled by a spell! By some kind of dark magic.

The sort of magic Jacob had warned about.

'I'm so, so sorry,' Bella sobbed. 'This is all my fault Jacob.'

Jacob's convulsions momentarily stilled, enabling her to briefly rest her hand on his face, which was flushed puce and clammy to the touch. His eyes stared blankly ahead, glazed with pain.

'… It's…it's the worst…worst feeling, Bells,' he stammered, his teeth clenched into a tight grimace, his fists screwed tight. 'Like…like my insides are going to burst from my body… .'

He suddenly grasped her hand, his fingernails digging deep into her flesh. Bella instinctively recoiled. In response, Jacob clawed at her, tearing maniacally at the bodice of her gown, desperate to pull her closer.

'… Need…need help Bella…get…help…,' he begged, his voice low and rasping, barely a whisper. 'Please…Bella…please… .'

Bella was torn. Her heart clenched at the thought of leaving him, helpless, alone, writhing in pain, in this stifling, soulless place.

But Jacob was right. If he had indeed been poisoned, he urgently needed a surgeon or an apothecary.

XXX

Bella sped away from the sweltering confines of the conservatory, heading straight for the house. Even if the house was uninhabited, surely there had to be a gardener or a housekeeper tending to this immaculate place, nurturing the abundant plants and trees in the conservatory?

Help me!' she screamed. 'Somebody! Please! Help me!'

She chased from window to window, banging frenetically on the glass, furious to find that thick, dark drapes prevented her from spying inside.

'Help!' she yelled, ever more urgently, straining her voice with the effort. 'My friend's sick. Very sick! We need help!'

She then noted that _one_ window, facing out onto the garden, had no drapes.

A searching gaze through these tall, latticed windows, revealed a pristine, ordered drawing room, complete with graceful, plush furnishings and a delicately wrought spinet, which appeared to have been recently played, judging by the open sheaves of music arranged close by.

Surely this meant there was somebody living here? Somebody who could rescue Jacob.

She frantically rapped her knuckles on the window.

But there was no response.

Her eyes were drawn to a line of seven quaint, china figurines ranged on an elegant sideboard, depicting sweetly smiling shepherdesses alongside their handsomely coiffed suitors. The figurines seemed to meet her gaze in such a way she could hardly keep herself from blushing, almost as though she was intruding on their privacy.

Her eyes dropped to a large porcelain bowl in their midst, resplendent with what appeared, at first sight, to be plump, lush fruits of every kind – including the shiny, dimpled orange balls that had poisoned Jacob.

Her spirits soared. Fruit could only be displayed in this manner if it was soon to be consumed – if it was suitably fresh. And yet…here was the oddest thing…on closer inspection, this fruit was hardly fresh at all. In fact it was old and inedible. The round orange fruits were coated in a thick powdery shield of green-grey mould. The apples were browned and dented, skins puckered and shriveled. A handful of purple plums were dry and shrunken.

'Oh no,' Bella groaned mournfully, wiping hot tears from her face.

They were truly, truly alone.

XXX

Despite Bella being the older child, with her ten years to Jacob's eight, Jacob was both taller and heavier, with strong, well-built limbs. Bella realized, with inevitable dread, that she had no choice but to manoeuvre Jacob, as best she could, as far from this place as possible. Fired by a fierce determination, Bella summoned all her strength, gritted her teeth, and levered Jacob's shivering body from the conservatory floor, ensuring almost his entire weight was now supported by her smaller, slender frame. She was immediately suffused with his heat, no doubt the result of the spasmodic fever pulsating through him.

'Come on Jacob,' she panted, clutching him closer. She hauled his bulk out of the conservatory, perspiring heavily with the effort. The path leading back to the woodland seemed to be longer than she had remembered…certainly too far to haul Jacob single-handedly to safety.

She chose instead to follow the paved terrace which appeared to encircle the entire circumference of the house, and soon arrived at a spacious courtyard.

Here she encountered another path, wide enough to accommodate a carriage and six horses, which stretched far away into the distance. But, to her dismay, this route had clearly been out of use for many years, and the road was rutted and stony, peppered with deep potholes which rendered it virtually impassable.

She then noticed a smaller, neatly pebbled path leading back into the woodland. This was far from ideal – it meant returning to the dark, forbidding wood they had been so happy to escape from - but the forest was not _so_ large, and at least a properly maintained path had to lead to_ somewhere_. Maybe even to a gate, which would afford her and Jacob a more easily accessible exit from the Valcor estate?

Bella braved a glimpse of Jacob's face which was contorted in pain, his eyes dulled, a faint trickle of blood oozing from his nostrils.

They had to get out of this place. Fast.

'Jacob,' she whispered ardently. 'Please try to walk a little of the way with me. It can't be much further, I feel certain.'

Jacob moaned incoherently, nestling his face deep into her hair. He stumbled a little, but she merely tightened her grip, encircling his waist with her arm.

'We'll be home before you know it,' Bella trilled, desperately trying to inject a note of optimism into her voice.

XXX

The woodland seemed even darker than before. The shadows cast by the trees overhead were longer, denser, and the whistling wind had whipped itself into a high-pitched whine.

Bella's heart was pounding with the effort of dragging her ailing friend deeper and deeper into the forest, even though she was sharply aware that the trees appeared to be closing in, with daylight receding quickly into the distance behind them.

Bella braved a glance at her friend whose usually tanned complexion was now pallid, grey and lifeless. He was barely able to move, as his feet kept slipping and sliding beneath him.

'Hold on Jacob,' she breathed. She hooked his arm over her shoulder, stumbling at the weighty impact of his body colliding with her own.

Calling on every ounce of remaining strength in her small-framed body, she urged herself forwards, fighting off a jabbing pain in her temples and a swirling nausea brimming up inside of her.

How long had they been in this place? She wondered. It felt like an age since she had met Jacob at the crossroads just outside town. Her parents would be furious if she was late for supper. Only yesterday they had berated her for 'running amok' like a 'wild child', all because her bonnet had gotten ensnared in a low-hanging branch of a willow tree, whilst playing 'tag' with Jacob along the banks of the river which looped around town. Her thick, dark hair had been let loose in a most 'ungainly fashion', her mother had said in cutting tones.

Bella had good reason to fear provoking her parents any further. There had been much talk of sending her away to school…even as far as Tushingham. And even as soon as her eleventh birthday, which was a matter of little more than a week from now.

Her mother often spoke to her, in hushed, reverential tones, of her father's 'social position', now that he had been appointed to the bench as a magistrate. Bella was reminded on a daily basis that Charles Swann was making his way in the world, and it would be wholly unfair, if her wayward behaviour, and any unsavoury associations she might incur during the course of her reckless escapades, should jeopardize his standing in the town.

Bella knew, with a heavy heart, that her mother was referring to her frequent visits to the gypsy camp, to see Jacob. She clung to the hope that her father, who had been childhood friends with _Jacob_'s father, would allow her to continue their friendship.

But after today, that seemed increasingly unlikely. Not only were they going to be very late – and that was presuming, of course, that there was a way _out _of Valcor, at the end of this infernal woodland – but both of them were now ill-kempt, over-wrought, and in Jacob's case, extremely sick.

She would never be trusted again, she knew that…And if Jacob should die… .

The mere thought of this made her head swim. Thick bile choked her throat. Rivulets of perspiration were flowing down her cheeks, and her chemise clung stickily to her back.

She had to stop, if only for a moment, to catch her breath.

Bella eased Jacob into a sitting position at the foot of a vast-trunked oak tree, its ancient bark gnarled and green. She then sank to the ground, her head spinning, her eyes blurred with sweat and tears.

She could feel the darkness closing in on her. All around them.

She reached out for Jacob, who had slumped forwards, moaning softly. His head lolled onto his knees, in the manner of a rag doll. Bella rhythmically stroked his sweat-drenched hair, hoping to ease his pain.

She could feel her own heart slowing, her limbs loosening, a strange warmth assailing her. The bed of leaves she had fallen onto suddenly seemed so soft, so accommodating.

The blackness was now closing in fast. She couldn't fight it any longer.

XXX

Bella was about to succumb to exhausted sleep, when the faint timbre of distant footsteps, fast approaching, thrummed through her.

She could see a faint silvery outline emerging from the all-enveloping darkness, coming nearer, drawing closer. Her vision was still unfocused, her limbs indolent and heavy, and her senses had dimmed considerably, but even in this semi-comatose state, she was increasingly aware of a tall, lean man – a man who seemed to glow like an angel - towering above them.

He moved with a light, lissom grace, effortlessly hoisting Jacob over his shoulder, before bending his head close to hers - so close, his eyes, which seemed to shimmer with an ethereal, soft golden light, seemed to linger over her face, as though learning every line and curve. He then scooped her into his arms, clutching her close to his chest.

The journey out of the woodland seemed a matter of moments, a heady rush of sweeping movement, before bright, glorious sunshine flooded Bella's vision. Her rescuer had tipped her over his other shoulder, so that her face was now close to Jacob's.

He seemed more at peace now. The greyish tinge in his cheeks had faded, his face had relaxed, and his eyes were closed as though sleeping.

She heard the clanking sound of a gate swinging open on rusted hinges behind them, and had a brief second's awareness of being lowered to the ground. Cool, light fingers carefully rested her head against the cold stone wall she had foolishly climbed earlier that same day. She desperately tried to catch sight of their saviour, to express her gratitude, but a wave of all-consuming fatigue washed over her, and she suddenly found herself unable to open her eyes, to stop herself from falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

XXX

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**


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